We headed out to dinner that night at a resort a few minutes away. It was kind of rainy and looked like it was going to storm pretty soon but we still went anyway. Out front there were lots of coconut trees and the boys stayed there and cracked coconuts while waiting for our food. Chase and I walked on the dock and posed for pictures until our food was served. I ordered lobster with rice. It was the first time I had lobster. It was a little too sweet for me but I enjoyed it.

It was rainy and drab outside when we awoke Wednesday morning, and we had been told that this was the weather for the rest of the week up until Saturday afternoon. That was bad news because we had scheduled plans every day. But since all that was called for was rain, rain, and more rain we decided to reschedule.

Around 11:00, Mrs. Mary & Mrs. Heather took us into town. After we did some souvenir shopping at a little boutique, we went to get our hair braided. The woman who braided our hair was very kind and had a very strong accent so it was hard to understand what she was saying. The braiding took about 1 hour and it was quite painful. She wasn’t exactly gentle with us tender- headed people.
Afterwards, we walked to the pool where the boys were swimming.

We played with them for a while and went back to the house for dinner. The men cooked us fresh grouper, rice and asparagus. It was really good! After ice cream and a movie, we went to bed.

Thursday had the worst weather out of all the days. We stayed in our pjs for a while then put on our suits and decided to go to lunch. On our way there Dr. Hunter decided to make a stop at a historical sight. On one side of the road, all of the water was white and brown. On the other it was as blue as could be. Apparently the white side was made completely of salt. After we adventured around for a little bit we got back in the vans and headed to lunch at this little beach shack that served some of the freshest sea food I had ever tasted. It was also where Johnny Depp hung out while they were shooting “Pirates of the Caribbean”. Towards the end of our meal, Chase and I saw this little boy who was obviously a resident of the island. He walked up to us and was trying to get away from his mother. He looked to be about 2 or 3. While he was trying to get away, he spanked Chase, yanked my cover up, hit Trey and bit Reed on the ankle!

Fortunately, the weather and our luck was about to get better…………..

We stepped into the humid Bahama air which smelled naturally of pineapple and sun tan lotion. After filling out paperwork for customs, we met our host, Mr. Scott who is the owner of the Bougainvillea house where we were staying. Then we climbed into two separate vans which had a steering wheel on the right and a sign that said “keep left “ which meant drive on left side only. We drove for about 30 minutes listening to Scott’s stories of various wrecks in the area and how it happens so often to Americans because of the unusual driving customs. The stories made me nervous because Dr. Hunter kept pulling out on the right lane and swerving around ditches. Then, right around the corner, we found the beautiful house with palm trees growing coconuts and the tropical flowers everywhere and the smell of the ocean wrapped around us like a blanket.


I picked up my luggage and Chase and I raced the boys into the house to get first picks on our room. There was one bedroom downstairs with the smallest bathroom, smallest bed, and smallest dresser and the ugliest comforter. We were certain Trey was going to get either that bedroom or the sofa bed. Chase and I selected a big bedroom with an iPod charger with a speaker and a stairway to the roof and a big pink bed. We were halfway done unpacking when we were told to go to the bedroom downstairs, but we were right about Trey getting booted to the sofa bed! We repacked then unpacked again before being told to put on our suits and sunscreen up. We did as we were told then walked into the kitchen to find Scott and his wife Karla, who is from South America. They told us that they were going to take us on their boat to the sand bars to look for starfish and swim around for a few hours. So with that we got into the vans and drove to the boat dock.

We carefully climbed into their boat and got situated then we took off. It amazed me how blue the water was and how clear as well. Very different from the water you see in Florida or any lake in Tennessee. A few minutes later we arrived at these beautiful sand bars that form in the middle of the ocean over long periods of time according to tide.
We played around there for a while and then Chase and I went wandering off to the opposite side of the beach. We had been searching forever for a starfish and had no luck. Then Chase pointed out something in the water that was big and yellow. It was completely surrounded by gross seaweed so we carefully urged each other into it to see the mysterious item. Long story short, it turned out to be a gigantic pink and yellow starfish!

The boys gathered all of the fish and put them in a big cluster. Scott then announced that we were going to go on a hike. After asking him multiple times if we needed our shoes he firmly said no and we headed on only to find that the trail looked like a desert and there were rocks everywhere. When we got to the other side we saw the most beautiful colored water I had ever seen at the beach. There were many rock jetties and the sand was made completely of broken shells. We then decided it was time to leave and took the trail back only to find that our starfish had all separated and gone back to the exact places where we had found them when we arrived. It was what Dr. Hunter liked to call “nature”. It’s his favorite word and was used many times on the trip.


After riding on the boat for a while we stopped at this island with a restaurant called “The Chat ‘n Chill.” The place was family friendly on the outside with rope swings and a basketball court but not so much on the inside. Chase and I asked if we could sit outside while we waited for our food. We got our food about an hour later, burgers that were burnt to a crisp with buns 2 times bigger than the burgers. The fries were pretty good though.

After our strange dinner experience we got back on the boat and rode to the dock as tired as could be. We sluggishly walked to the vans in the light rain. All I wanted was a hot shower and a cozy bed. As soon as we got home I showered and eased into bed and instantly fell asleep. This had been one fun- filled day!

As the end of the school year approached and the Ocho’s departure date for paradise got closer, I started wondering what in the world I was going to do with myself for 8 days. Knowing myself like I do, I figured I’d have good intentions to use all that time alone to exercise, clean out closets and wash baseboards. Then I’d end up pacing, worrying, wondering and stress eating Cheeze-its while watching Lifetime movies on demand. But as is usually the case in times like this, my girlfriends came to the rescue.


Over the years we’ve been on many adventures together; the mountains, the lake, the big city of Nashville, the small city of Linden. But somehow, after over a decade together we’ve neglected to visit the beach. We’ve talked about it. We’ve tried to plan for it. But it just never came together. Then, a couple of weeks ago on the spur of the moment Andrea decided it was time. She had been given access to a condo at Perdido Key and decided a mother/daughter trip was in order. She invited those of us with older girls to join her and Josie for a few days during Memorial Day weekend.

Of course, my girl would be jetting off around the same time so my initial response was no. Then I discovered Big Nanny was planning to go without her daughter so I threw caution to the wind and parental guilt out the window. My first ever spontaneous impulsive trip to the beach! I felt wildly liberated.

(Once the word got out that 2 of us were going on a mother/daughter trip without daughters, the mom of 7 sons and no daughters decided she was going too. Can hardly blame her there.)

So bright and early Saturday morning we stuffed all seven of us in the car and headed out. We organized a rotating driving schedule with the perk being that whoever was driving got to choose the music for their stretch of highway. I had a mix of everything from Bon Jovi to Carly Rae Jepsen, Tracey played the 80’s, and Angela had us singing out of her travel hymnal. It was no private jet. But then again, private jets don’t allow personal playlists. Score one for me.

They say that half the fun is getting there and that is never more true than when I am on a road trip with my girls. This was the first time that any of our children had been invited into the “inner sanctum” of our adventures together, and let me just say their eyes were opened. In fact, Abigail claimed to be surprised at just how crazy Mrs. Angela is. She did however point out she wasn’t at all surprised by my behavior because “Mrs. Teresa acts like this all the time.” Thanks. I think.

As for the beach itself, everything was just about perfect. The condo was great (and free!), the weather was perfect, the conversation was hilarious and the behavior was extremely mature.

Except for the tattoo spotting contest (we were the only 5 women on the beach without them), the prank texting (Robyn was both the culprit and the victim over the course of the trip), and the ill-fated snow ball incident (they were selling snow cones on the beach and after ordering it was discovered that the health department probably doesn’t pay them any visits).

One highlight of the trip was learning the condo management was giving away free hot dogs on Memorial Day to its guests. (I was pretty sure the Ocho wasn’t getting free hot dogs on her fancy shmancy private beach.) You can only imagine Big Nanny’s jubilation and Robyn’s subsequent disgust when the free dogs were discovered. We had a grand time enjoying them while Robyn snacked on sun chips and a slice of cheese. (I’m still astounded she refused to eat a perfectly sanitary hot dog and yet agreed to consume a snow cone prepared by the ungloved hands of a teenage boy on a public beach. Allow yourself to dwell on that for a moment.)

Our days were spent lazily on the beach listening to the waves, spotting tattoos, eating free hot dogs and resenting the whole private beach thing, because seriously, people in the panhandle have NO regard for personal space. Case in point, this pic shows our proximity to one half of the duo we nicknamed the Sweater Brothers.


They came and planted themselves right in front of our chairs and we were eternally grateful. I mean, who wouldn’t want to stare at that all day instead of the boring ocean?

After long days of sunning, relaxing and tattoo spotting, our nights were spent looking for a good place to eat that would satisfy all of our varying requirements. Some eat no meat, some eat only healthy foods, some watch their sugar intake. Then there was Big Nanny and me. The Sunset Grille was probably my favorite and I would highly recommend it for anyone visiting that area. It had an amazing view, awesome hush puppies, really good music to sing along to and a really good burger according to Big Nanny (and she is a burger connoisseur).

Our final night we ate at Lulu’s in Orange Beach. Some of you have probably heard of it, but I had not. I will say it was quite an experience. The food was good and our waiter was very charming. The outdoor area was perfect for keeping everyone occupied during the hour and a half wait for a table. But what I’ll always remember is the live entertainment.

It was a middle aged Jimmy Buffet wannabe who strummed a guitar to a prerecorded track and sipped an adult beverage the entire time he was singing. It wasn’t his voice or inebriation that really caused concern. It was his lyrical content. Here he was singing to a room full of families, most with young children, and his songs were lacking a certain family-friendly element. “If the Tiki Hut’s rockin’, don’t bother knockin’” sparked quite a few uncomfortable questions from one child at our table. And that was one of the more subtle selections.

After dinner we made what can only be described as a misguided decision that probably had some questioning our sobriety. All 5 of us climbed into a photo booth together. The result was so much tear-inducing laughter we could barely stand it, and a sad picture strip of which I only made one frame.

Still, memories were made. And more were yet to come. After Lulu’s we headed to the go-cart track. This was at the request of Andrea’s daughter Josie and was meant to be a treat for the kids. Abigail however didn’t meet the height requirement for the large track so Big Nanny agreed to drive her. (And there’s nothing about putting your child in a go-kart with Big Nanny racing at high speeds that should cause any mother concern.) They did fine until the end when Big Nanny came to a complete stop on the track so Robyn could take their picture and nearly caused a 20 car pile-up. But I hear the picture turned out pretty.

Our nights out always proved to be fun but once we got back to the condo, things changed. At least for me. You see, I volunteered to sleep on the sleeper sofa since I’m an early riser. This put me at the mercy of everyone else when it came time for bed. It meant waiting for everyone to settle in and go to bed before I could turn out the lights. And once I did, sleep rarely came. Because it was usually after midnight when someone would decide to do laundry and discover the washing machine sounded like the space shuttle lifting off. Or they called their husband to talk about their day and came into the hallway as to not disturb anyone. But my favorite was the night a smoke detector decided to start chirping around 1:00 am and it took 3 of us (and one YouTube demonstration) to disarm it. And in the search for it, one of us took a butter knife to the actual fire alarm system on the wall by mistake. If that plan had been successful, this would have been a GREAT story.

On our last night we did what most self-respecting middle aged women would do, we made a Video Star to “22” by Taylor Swift. I wish I could share it with you, but I’ve had some trouble getting the link. And besides, if you saw it you’d just be jealous of our mad dancing skillz.

So while my daughter was living it up in paradise, I was too. Sure, the transportation wasn’t chartered, the beach wasn’t private, the condo wasn’t a mansion, the water wasn’t clear and Penelope Cruz wasn’t in the guest book. But it was still a trip I’ll never forget.

As for my friends, we discovered not much has changed after all these years. We all bring our own brand of crazy to the party. And each person’s crazy somehow compliments the others. I sure do love these girls and can’t wait to try and do it all again next summer. But if they break the crazy out at bedtime, the butter knife will be put to better use.



*I know the trip you all really want to hear about is the Ocho’s, but since I wasn’t there I can’t tell it. So, coming soon I’ll turn it over to a special guest blogger who’ll bring you all the details.